


Don’t Say It

by growingnerves



Category: Dreamwastaken, GeorgeNotFound - Fandom, dream - Fandom, dreamnotfound - Fandom, gream
Genre: Denial of Feelings, EDNOS, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Light BDSM, Lots of getting drunk & high, M/M, TW for possibly all tags on every chapter, This is fiction in every right, Warnings May Change, early 20s amirite, friends to lovers au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23695483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growingnerves/pseuds/growingnerves
Summary: Clay just recently celebrated his 4 year anniversary with his girlfriend. So why is he taking notes on George’s submissive tendencies?George’s thoughts are at the same time overwhelming at all times, and nonexistent at most times. What time is there to think about something as frivolous as developing a crush on his closest friend?
Relationships: Clay & George
Comments: 8
Kudos: 129





	1. Tease

“Alrighty. How’s that look for you, Clay?”

George’s hopeful grin was crystal clear on Clay’s monitor. Crystal clear for Cox internet, at least. He often had issues with his (albeit affordable) internet.

Clay found it amusing, the way George would clam up when teased, but he ignored the charm of George’s submissive behavior. His skin was the perfect shade of hiding a bashful blush, but Clay knew how to spot it anyway. When truly mortified, in any sense, the tips of George’s ears blush bright red. The first time it happened, it was the brightest blushing Clay had ever seen before. Not even his fairly complected sisters had ever had it that bad, from what he could remember of living with them. Clay definitely didn’t ponder this specific shade of red while showering, cooking dinner for himself and Sam, or visiting with his Mother on the phone. That would be absurd.

“Nah man, you’re still frozen on the first frame. I’m staring at your crotch right now.” Clay would not consider himself a liar in general, although lately, the lines have been blurry. George laughed, and shrieked:

“Not my crotch!” 

Clay smiled as George’s eyes darted back and forth across his screen. The expression on George’s face quickly went back to confusion as he tried to troubleshoot. Clay saw the smirk though, and the pink that lingered on his ears.

“Okay, I can see you now.” Clay decided to cut the facade short, he had missed his best friend and was ready to jump into their evening. George smiled as he took a sip of amber liquid. 

“What’re you having tonight, hm?” Clay nodded towards the screen, referencing the quarter full glass in George’s hand. 

“My father gave me this whiskey for my past birthday. It’s actually pretty tasty!” George swished the liquid around in his mouth, emulating a wine taster. 

“First of all, disgusting. Second of all, should you be drinking that? Don’t you have to be up early in the morning?” Clay quizzed. 

It was five twenty one pm in Tallahassee, Florida, where Clay lived with his girlfriend, Sam; and their cat, Patches. Five hours ahead, in London, England, was George. George had roommates, roommates which he loved dearly: Ashley, Rosemary, and Sade. They lived in a rather large duplex on the edge of Essex, in front of vibrant English Lavender fields that crept into their backyard if the winter was wet/ the summer was dry. 

“Yes I do have to be awake early, but Rosemary is coming with me. I think I should be okay.” George averted his gaze from Clay. Talking about his weigh-ins was always a touchy subject. 

His roommates were typically supportive of his recovery, especially Rose. Clay knew about his eating disorder, and about most of the disordered eating habits themselves, as George could open up with Clay like nobody else. But they lived over 4000 miles apart, so George went to his bi-weekly weigh ins with Rose. 

“I’m glad you have her.” Clay smiled kindly. George felt warmth spread over his chest and down his arms. Warmth was a feeling George seldom felt lately. 

“I am a lucky man,” George chuckled. Is that how you feel as well, C?” George poked fun at the relationship problems Clay and Sam had been having the past couple of months. Clay wouldn’t call them “problems” per-say... but George wasn’t into formalities. 

“Ha-ha, very funny George. We are actually doing okay, I’ll have you know. I think we have both been trying.” Now it was Clay’s turn to blush. 

It was partly true, Sam *had* been putting in extra effort in their relationship lately. Making Clay breakfast before she left for work in the morning, not having her friends over as often (one of their biggest sources of conflict), and cleaning up after herself a bit more. That was nice, and Clay had definitely appreciated having his thoughtful girlfriend back; (it’s not like he was asking for much, right?) but that didn’t fix The Big Issue. 

“I can see you processing. What’s going on in there?” George prodded Clay. 

“Sam and I have not had sex in 6 months. I don’t know how much longer I can just look at porn, George. I’m not built for this.” Clay’s words jumbled out like bricks hitting concrete. 

“What porn have you been looking at?” George smirked.

“George! Not important!” Clay reprimanded him. 

“I’m seriously lonely dude, and she’s making an effort, and I want to make an effort, but she’s not down to do the one thing I feel like I’m really lacking. Where do I go from there?” Clay’s eyebrows were knit together. 

George thought about how it was a rare sight to see his gaze so scrutinizing. As a self proclaimed stoner, Clay was usually pretty laid back. 

“Well have you considered...” George started.

“No! How could you suggest that?” Clay’s scrutinizing look quickly turned to shock. Or was it horror? Either thought gave George the same grueling twist in his stomach. 

“Look dude, all I’m saying is, you’re a great guy who deserves to receive just as much as you are giving. I’m not going to let your high school sweetheart bring you down! Sometimes, you have to move on from what’s comfortable to what’s right for you.” Clay seemed to glimmer in the light of the compliments. 

“George, I won’t date you.” Clay barely smirked as he lifted his knee to his chest to rest his chin on. The gesture seemed comfortable, almost teasing to George. 

“As if I need you to date *me*.” George scoffed. 

“Besides, the long distance thing is crap anyway...”


	2. Small

George trudged up the concrete stairs slowly. It was a brisk fall day in November, just a couple weeks after the small boy’s 22nd birthday. Weigh ins were his least favorite part of the week. Since George had only been released towards the end of October, he was still required to show up to the tiny clinic twice a week to make sure he had been eating his mini muffins and roast duck. 

It exhausted him. 

He never got significant sleep the night before, and last night was no exception. Come to think of it, George was a bit bewildered by his inability to rest last night. 

Clay had got him going, as he usually does when testing new mods. In a time of desperation, the friends came up with a long-distance smoking/ drinking game of sorts, as each player had his preferred vice. If either Clay or George died, at any point in their testing, for any reason, they both had to finish what they were working on. For the English one, that usually meant downing the remainder or whatever alcoholic beverage he had that night. His favorites included most any dark liquids, vodka, and occasionally champagne. (Clay thought champagne made George flirty.)

For Clay, this usually meant clearing the remainder of the bowl he was smoking. He usually used a bong, but occasionally a dry pipe would make an appearance on the friend’s Skype call. 

George died three times, Clay once. By the end of the evening, which was really the early hours of dawn for George, he was drunk with a capital “D”. Four deaths had meant that Clay finished 4 bowls, and George four drinks. George wasn’t necessarily a lightweight; although the smaller the number on his scale had gotten, the easier it was for the amber liquid to loosen him up. 

But god, did he feel it the next morning. Usually with that much alcohol coursing through his system, he’d be knocked out for at least 6 hours. Last night, George eventually stopped staring at the clock; but if he was optimistic he assumed he was running on about three hours. It was better than nothing though, and George had Rosemary by his side; arms linked. 

Everything was fine.

~

George zipped his parka as the mint scrubbed nurse said something about a protein shake she wanted him to get, as his weight was dropping again. Never mind the pounds he had sewn into his underwear. He was able to justify it, though, whenever the shops around his flat stopped taking the old round pound coins. George figured it was only helping him stay out of inpatient temporarily, he would work on gaining weight soon.

“Yeah, definitely. I’ve got it.” George mumbled to the nurse, hand on the doorknob. “Am I good to go?”

The nurse squinted though her glasses at the boy. “You’re good to go, but you need to work on your calories. Your weight is dropping again. I want to see it back up next visit.” The nurse’s eyes were cold, but she had a gentle smile. 

“You got it.” George rushed out of the room to the lobby, doing a quick scan for Rosemary’s strawberry blonde hair. His eyes met hers and she smiled. George instantly felt better. How did he manage to land such supportive friends? He felt didn’t deserve it. 

“How was it?” Rosemary linked her arm in George’s as they exited the clinic. George blew air out of his nostrils as he shook his head. 

“Nurse J says I need to gain more weight before coming back next week. But that’s what she says every week.” George replied in monotone. 

“Well she’s right you know, but you know your limits. I trust that.” Rosemary gave him a small smile. 

“You’re too good to me Rose.” George pulled her close and placed a kiss on the top of her head. As they walked back to their flat, George contemplated the meal he might make later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> X, G.N.


End file.
